I Can See Through You
by Wrambler
Summary: Chandler's got himself a reputation as a bad boy, but Monica knows it's all an act. Young Mondler AU.
1. Chapter 1

Hey there! So this is my first attempt at a mulit-chapter fic. If there's some interest, I'll continue. So please R&amp;R!

Disclaimer: I don't own Friends or any of the characters.

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"Damn it," Chandler muttered as he exited his car, carelessly throwing his notebook over his head to shield his brown mop of hair from the rain that had just begun to pour. He kicked the door shut behind him as his free hand dug into his jacket for a pack of cigarettes. He stuck one between his teeth as he half-jogged his way to the building. The parking lot was deserted as classes had already begun much earlier. Happy to be void of people, Chandler found his favourite spot near the back of the schoolyard and stood underneath the overhang of the abandoned portable. No longer in need of it's protection he let the notebook drop to the ground beside him, using that hand to light up his cigarette.

He inhaled deeply and instantly felt relaxed. He stared out across the open field, scowling at the wet morning air. Chandler hated this time of day. Correction, he hated that he was required to be awake at this time of day, in order to be at this building that he hated, to attend classes that he hated. He sighed to himself and shook his head. He wasn't really a hated-filled guy, school just brought out the worst in him. He should have been out of here by now, but he was too busy hating education to actually pass his classes and graduate on time. So now here he was, repeating his senior year, while the rest of his friends had moved on to more prospective endeavours. Not that he had many friends to begin with. His best friend had been Joey, an aspiring actor who had moved out to LA in hopes of being discovered by some big shot director. They shared a similar interest in booze and slacking off, and together they had been quite the pair of troublemakers. There were a few other guys in their crowd, but none that he had actually bothered to stay in touch with. For the most part, Chandler was a loner. Awkward and foolish in nature, he had never found making friends an easy task. Due to his aloofness, he had gained a reputation as somewhat of a bad boy in his freshman year of high school. He had screwed up a couple of times accidentally, which ended up with enemies in the wrong places and frequent trips to the principal's office. He wasn't truly a rebel, just a clumsy idiot, but he decided to roll with the reputation given to him by his peers. He adopted a leather jacket, and on top of his smoking habit and slacker attitude, he fit the description perfectly.

Chandler took the last puff of his cigarette and flicked the butt off into oblivion. He ran a hand through his slightly damp hair, and slapped his cheeks lightly in an effort to wake himself up. Picking his tattered, soggy notebook up off the ground, he reluctantly trudged towards the back doors of the building. After taking a quick peak down the hall to confirm that the coast was clear, he made his way as quietly as he could in his squeaky boots to his Economics class. He slipped through the back door and dropped quietly into the chair in the corner, throwing his notebook on the desk in front of him.

The girl beside him jolted and wrinkled her nose when she realized it was him. The girl in question was Rachel Green, head cheerleader and school princess. In response to her disgust he gave her a snide smile and an obnoxious wink. At this she rolled her eyes and shot a meaningful look at her best friend in the seat beside her, Monica Geller. Monica turned her piercing blue eyes in his direction and observed him with a slight frown. Something in her expression was so disapproving that Chandler dropped his smug look immediately, feeling sheepish. With a slight shake of her head Monica turned her attention back to the teacher, and Chandler turned his focus to the notebook in front of him. He opened it to reveal pathetically empty pages, most of which were ruined from the rain. He patted his pockets in search for a writing utensil, but came up with nothing.

"Hey," He whispered in the direction of his neighbour, Miss Rachel Green. "Can I borrow a pen?" She repeated her earlier nose wrinkle, but rifled through her pencil case nonetheless. After a minute she turned to him and gave him a shoulder shrug to indicate that she had no pen to spare. He rolled his eyes, sure that she just didn't care, and leaned behind her slightly.

"Pssst, Monica," Chandler whispered and the brunette turned with a start at the mention of her name. "Do you have a pen I can borrow?"

She wordlessly reached for on of the extra ones she had already lined up on her desk, and handed it to him. He took it with a nod of thanks, and clicked it open. He went to scribble the date at the top of the page, only to find that the paper was effectively ruined.

"Uh, can I borrow some paper too?" He asked Monica with a lopsided smile. She rolled her eyes, but Chandler was sure he saw the ghost of a smile appear on her lips. She unclipped a few blank pages from her binder and passed them to him. He nodded his appreciation again, and this time was able to write cleanly.

He didn't know why he all the sudden felt the desire to at least try to pay attention, but he was able to finish the class with a page worth of notes jotted down. As the bell rang and students scurried out of their seats, Chandler went to return the pen to Monica.

"Keep it," She said to him with a shake of her head. "You have other classes to go to." He smiled at her in thanks, and she gave him a quick head nod before heading out the door. The smile remained plastered to his face for a few seconds before he picked up his notebook and went to exit the classroom.

"Oh, Mr. Bing," The teacher, a Mr. Birch, called out to him before he could escape. "Would you come here a moment?"

Chandler stifled a sigh as he turned around and slowly sauntered up to the front of the room. "Yeah?" He asked casually.

"As disruptive as your late arrival was," He started sternly, but with a gentle tone. Mr. Birch was tall and slim, with sandy blond hair that was showing the beginnings of grey. He was the type of teacher who was firm, but seemed to genuinely care about his students. "It was nice to see you attempting to take notes for once. I'd like to see you keep that effort up."

"Good to know, Mr. Birch." Chandler said, making a turn to leave.

"I'm not finished," Mr. Birch held up a finger, and Chandler swivelled back around to face him again. "I'm fully aware of your situation Mr. Bing. I would hate to see you have to repeat your senior year yet again. It's the beginning of the school year, and you have plenty of time to change your grades around."

"Yeah, I'll give it my best effort." Chandler gave him a tight smile, desperately wanting the conversation to be over so he could take a nap in his English class.

"You have an appointment with Ms. Oakley after school today, she has something she'd like to discuss with you."

"You know, I'd love to, but I sort of have a thing." Chandler waved his arms around dismissively, not even attempting to come up with a believable excuse.

"You'll be there, Mr. Bing," Mr. Birch said, the tone of finality in his voice.

"Alright," Chandler sighed, giving in. Without another word he exited the classroom and sulked his way to the next class.

* * *

After the final bell of the day rang, Chandler made his way through the sea of loud, obnoxious teenagers to arrive at a destination he was all too familiar with: the principal's office. He made his way into the waiting area where there was already someone seated in one of the two chairs. His eyes widened as he recognized the someone as Monica Geller, academic whiz and good girl extraordinaire. A smirk played on his lips as he slid into the seat beside her.

"Fancy seeing you here, Miss Geller" He said, and she turned to him with those wide blue eyes.

"Can't say I'm surprised to see you." She retorted with a slight shrug of her shoulders. "What did you do this time, pull a girl's pigtails?"

"Oh I'd never do that," He said, feigning innocence. Then he deadpanned, "I'd just cut them off instead." Monica gave a slight eye roll but the corners of her mouth turned up, which delighted Chandler. "I'm actually not in trouble. I'm here to discuss my "academic standing". What about you, why are you here? I never took you for the trouble-making type."

"I'm not in trouble." She said, her voice raising an octave as she took offence. "I'm here to discuss my extra volunteer hours."

"Now that makes a lot more sense." Chandler nodded. He opened his mouth to say something else, but it was then that the door to principal Oakley's office opened.

"Good, you're both here." Ms. Oakley said, and then gestured for them to stand up. "Come on in Ms. Geller, and Mr. Bing."

As they stood up, Monica and Chandler exchanged glances with raised eyebrows. They entered Ms. Oakley's dull green office, and took their respective seats in front of the desk. Ms. Oakley circled around the desk and sat in her chair, rearranging a few things on her desk before picking up a blue folder.

"So," She began as she flipped through the folder. "I'm sure you know how aware of your situation we are, Mr. Bing."

"Sure, yeah." He said, not really caring at all.

"It's only a few weeks into the new year, and already you're flunking three of your classes." She closed the blue folder and plopped it down on the desk, focusing her gaze on Chandler. She frowned slightly, a look of concern entering her pale green eyes. "We don't want you to have to repeat your senior year yet again. I've discussed the situation with Mr. Birch, and we've decided to set you up with a tutor."

"I don't need a tutor—" Chandler began to protest, sitting up in his chair. Ms. Oakley held up a stern finger to indicate she wasn't finished.

"Which is why I've asked Ms. Geller here." Ms. Oakley turned to Monica, sitting forward. "You said you wanted to tutor for extra volunteer hours this year, correct?"

Monica nodded, her face serious. She didn't look to thrilled about the revelation that Chandler would be her student.

"Excellent," Ms. Oakley nodded, and turned her focus back to Chandler. "Mr. Birch and I have decided that it would be best if you learn from a fellow student, rather than bringing in a tutor from an outside institution. This way you can feel more comfortable, and learn from someone who knows your situation as a student. And we believe there's no one better to accomplish this task than Ms. Geller here. She's one of our brightest students."

"I'm happy to do it." Monica's demeanour changed as she lit up at Ms. Oakley's praise.

"Very good." Ms. Oakley straightened up in her seat. "It's settled then. Now you two may go and discuss your meeting schedule. Have a good day."

Chandler wanted to protest. He wanted to roll his eyes and exit with a sarcastic comment. But for some reason, he just nodded obligingly and followed Monica out of the office. They left the room and began walking down the hall in silence. Chandler sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He wanted to call it off, to tell Monica that he didn't think tutoring was the right option for him. He looked at the small brunette beside him, opening his mouth to say something.

"So," She started suddenly, turning to look at him. "Wednesdays and Fridays after school work best for me. I can't do Tuesdays because I have Yearbook, and on Thursdays I take cooking classes. Do Wednesday and Friday work for you?"

"Uh, sure" Chandler said, surprising himself. He had meant to blow her off, to tell her that he wasn't going to be tutored. And before he could stop himself he continued, "You want to work in the library?"

"Sure." Monica nodded. "That works. So, I'll see you tomorrow then?"

"Yeah," Chandler nodded again, and watched as Monica gave him a quick smile then turned down another corridor, walking away from him. He stared in that direction for a long time, even after she disappeared, wondering what the hell had come over him.

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A/N: Okay, so the ending was kinda sloppy and maybe it's a bit cliche, but what'd ya think?


	2. Chapter 2

Wow, thank you so much for all your kind words! It's really encouraged me to continue this story.

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Monica tapped her foot nervously as she glanced at the clock yet again. The final bell had rung fifteen minutes ago. She knew that it was predictable for Chandler to be a little late, but she was not a patient person and with every minute that passed she felt more sure that he just wouldn't show up at all. Frowning, she turned her concentration away from the clock and instead decided to do some of her own studying to distract herself. She opened her bright purple notebook to the most recent page, and tried to absorb the information she needed to know for her psychology quiz the next day. However as she looked over her own handwriting, she realized she wasn't reading it at all, she was thinking about Chandler.

With a frustrated sigh Monica closed the notebook, biting her lip. She didn't know why, but the idea of tutoring him made her incredibly anxious. It wasn't because she knew he'd be difficult to tutor- no, she could handle stubborn- it was more the idea of having to spend time in close proximity to him. It was a strange feeling for her, because she had known Chandler for a very long time. She was never particularly close with him, but they had grown up on they same street and he was best friends with her older brother, Ross. The two boys had been inseparable. They were always riding their bikes together during the summer, and making up stories about finding dinosaur fossils near the creek behind the Geller's house. Then when the boys both entered high school, their friendship slowly diminished. Chandler began to care less and less about school, and Ross- well, Ross still cared a great deal about dinosaurs. So Chandler became part of the slacker crowd, while Ross excelled in his academics. Now Ross was away at college studying to be a paleontologist, and Monica hadn't seen Chandler around their house in years. Still, she had grown up with him, knew him for years as the goofy kid who fell over a lot and made stupid jokes when he was nervous. There was no reason for her to feel nervous to be around him now, but she was all the same.

Monica's train of thought was suddenly interrupted when another notebook was slammed down next to hers. She looked up to see Chandler giving her one of his crooked smiles as he shrugged off his leather jacket. She smiled back at him briefly before wrinkling her nose in disgust.

"You're late, smokey." She scolded him. He frowned slightly as he slumped down in the chair across from her, glancing quickly at the clock.

"We said to meet in the library after school. It's after school, and I'm here." He shrugged nonchalantly.

"It's twenty-five minutes after the final bell." She stated matter-of-factually.

"Well, ah, I had to pee." He lied blatantly, a twinkle in his eye.

"Yeah, whatever. Look, I don't have time to waste so I would appreciate it if you would arrive quicker next time, okay?" She said shortly. For some reason his indifference irked her, the nerves were now totally gone and replaced by subtle anger. Here she was, offering her time willingly to help him and he couldn't care less.

"Yeah, okay." He said, raising his eyebrows and his hands at the same time. "So, what are we going to learn first, teach?"

"Don't call me that." She snapped, then breathed deeply to calm herself. "Sorry. Take out your Econ textbook."

"Yeah," He said slowly, looking a bit sheepish. "I don't have that."

"Fine, we'll use mine. Come here." She sighed and gestured for him to sit beside her so they could both look at the material. He slid his chair around the table until it was next to hers, then leaned forward so he had better access to the book. Monica instantly became very aware of how close Chandler was to her. His arm was rested on the side of his chair, parallel to her own arm rested on her own chair, and the two of them were almost touching. She noticed how his brown hair hung his face, over his mischievous blue eyes that looked very tired close up, and how he smelled of coffee and stale cigarette smoke. That last detail wasn't particularly appealing to her, but for some reason his sudden closeness had washed all of her initial anger towards him away. She felt transfixed by him.

Then Chandler let out a loud, obnoxious sneeze, and Monica was shaken out of her reverie. She jerked away, surprised by the noise, and nearly fell out of her chair. Chandler stared at her with wide-eyes before the two broke out into simultaneous laughter. The whole moment was completely ridiculous, and helped ease the tension quite a bit. Monica didn't feel as on-edge anymore and was able to dive into the designated chapter for Economics, without too much resistance from Chandler.

* * *

After about an hour of listening to Monica talk about Economics far too enthusiastically, Chandler reached his limit. He had tried his darnedest to really pay attention at first, to try and assimilate as much information as possible, but his brain just wasn't able to focus any longer. He nodded along to whatever she was saying, but all he was really thinking was how captivating her eyes were. They were a fantastically bright shade of blue, but it was more than just the colour of them that intrigued Chandler. It was how expressive they were, and how they amplified the stories she told with her words. They drew him in and enchanted him,Chandler couldn't help the power they seemed to hold over him. And now they looked annoyed.

"Chandler!" Monica said, sounding exasperated, those blue eyes lighting up with vexation. "Have you been listening to a word I've said?"

"Uh," Chandler cleared his throat, and straightened up. "Maybe?"

"Great." She rolled her eyes and slumped back in her chair. "You haven't learned anything and we're pretty much out of time."

"No, that's not true!" He rushed to reassure her. "I learned some. I just lost track somewhere around something about Market Equilibrium?"

"Great." She repeated with a sigh. "So you learned about a fifth of what I talked about today. And that wasn't even a full chapter." Her brow furrowed and she closed the book, standing up as she packed away her stuff. "Look, if you really don't care about your grades, fine. I'll just have to tell Ms. Oakley to find someone else who doesn't mind wasting their time to teach you."

"No!" Chandler protested, a little too eagerly. He cleared his throat and tried to sound more casual. "I mean, no, I'm sorry. I don't mean to waste your time. I'll be more focused next time, I promise."

Monica chewed the inside of her cheek and stared at Chandler with one eyebrow raised. Finally, she gave in. "Okay. But I mean it, if you don't take this seriously than I'm not going to bother helping you. Got it?"

"Yes ma'am," Chandler grinned, and laughed when Monica glared at him for the nickname. "I'll make sure to bring a bigger coffee to our next session."

"Bring me one too and I'll forgive you for this time." She said with a smirk, those blue eyes twinkling at him. Chandler could only nod, and watch as she walked out the door. He couldn't help the giddy smile that crept onto his face, and found himself looking actually looking forward to their next session.

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A/N: I'm sorry this chapter is so short! I'm pretty busy with school right now, so it's been hard to find the time to write. But I wanted to get something out because you all have been so kind. I hope it wasn't too boring. Please R&amp;R! :)


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Sorry this took a while! I've been crazy busy with school and I'm afraid that it's just going to get worse in the next few weeks with exams and final projects and all. But here's a filler chapter for now. I'm sorry this is slow going. Hopefully by the end of April I'll have some more chapters finished and the plot will start moving. Thank you all so much for your kind words! Every single review means the world to me, and encourages me to keep going. So thank you, and I hope you enjoy! Please R&amp;R! :)

* * *

Monica was pissed. The sessions with Chandler had been going well- as well as they could with someone like him anyhow. They had had two weeks of meet-ups that had gone fairly smoothly, she talked, Chandler listened best he could, and they did some sample problems. She was quite impressed with the effort he was giving it, she had expected him to be a lot more difficult to tutor. He was actually a lot smarter than he gave himself credit for, Monica suspected it was just a lack of motivation that had him repeating his senior year. However, all of that was aside now. Monica hadn't seen Chandler all day nor heard anything from him. And she was pissed. If there was one thing Monica hated above all, it was being stood up. That, and people not using coasters for their hot drinks.

After the final bell rang Monica headed to the library. She decided that she would wait there for at least fifteen minutes, and if he was a no show, she'd be going straight to the source. She entered the library and sat at their usual table. Pulling out her text books, she distracted herself with some of her own homework.

She distracted herself a little too well. Without even realizing it, and hour had gone by and she was still in the library, and there had been no sign of Chandler. Angrily, she threw her books into her bag and stormed out of the school. Since she had missed the bus, and she didn't take the car today since Chandler usually gave her a ride home after their sessions, she had to walk.

About halfway to her home, her luck worsened and it began to rain heavily. Pulling her hood over her head, Monica half-jogged the rest of the way. When she finally arrived at her street, she marched straight past her own house, and instead arrived at one about ten houses down. She stomped up the steps and knocked on the door, absolutely peeved and soaking wet.

A kind faced, plump woman with dark curly hair opened the door.

"Hello," Monica tried to smile politely. This woman- the housekeeper, she assumed- didn't deserve her wrath. "Is Chandler home?"

"Ah, yes" The woman nodded her head, stepping aside to let Monica in. "He's upstairs in his room. But would you mind drying off first? I'll get you a towel."

Monica nodded and watched as the woman disappeared down the hallway. As she waited, Monica observed the space around here. She had been here a couple times before when she was younger, for play-dates, birthday parties and the like. The hallway was large and welcoming, with a tall, spiralling staircase standing only a few feet away. To her left the hall opened up to a large, green living room, and to her right there was the dining room. Monica frowned as she noted the lack of decorations. She thought she remembered pictures hanging on the walls, and sitting on the mantle piece, but there was not a trace of this. Instead it looked like a home someone had just moved into, rather than one that a family had lived in for over a decade.

The housekeeper returned then, with a large white towel for Monica. She graciously accepted it and patted herself dry the best she could. Then she removed her muddy boots and placed them on the mat next to her. She handed the towel to the woman, and then gave her a parting smile of thanks as she headed up the stairs.

As soon as she was out of sight of the kind lady, her face returned to it's initial scowl. By the time she reached the landing all of her former anger had fully returned. Surprisingly, she remembered exactly which room was Chandler's, and marched right up to the closed door. She went directly to the knob first, but then pulled her hand back and knocked firmly. She wasn't one to invade someone's privacy, no matter how infuriated she was with them. After she rapped at the door, she heard a groan from the other side, and then some scuffling.

The door opened and Monica was greeted by a dishevelled, puffy-eyed boy in a plaid housecoat who couldn't possibly be Chandler. But it was. His eyes widened, and then his brow furrowed and he took a step back.

"Monica?" He said, his voice thick and stuffy sounding. "What are you doing here?"

She had planned to yell at him. She planned to tell him once again that she was here to help him and she wasn't going to let him away with skipping their scheduled meetings, but when she saw how ill he looked, she took pity instead.

"Well, I was wondering why you missed our tutoring session today and didn't bother to tell me," She began, trying to tone down the leftover bitterness she still felt. "But now I understand."

"Oh shit!" Chandler hit his palm against his face. "I'm so sorry Monica, I forgot to contact you. It completely slipped my mind."

"Nah, don't worry about it." She tried to shrug it off casually, but really she was deeply grateful for his genuine sounding apology. "I'm sorry you're sick. I guess I'll let you off the hook this once."

"Thanks," Chandler gave his crooked smile, but then it vanished and was replaced by his hand as he tried to cover a viscous cough.

"Are you alright?" Monica's brow furrowed in concern and she instinctively took a step towards him, resting her hand on his shoulder.

"Yeah, I'm fine" Chandler said once he had regained control of his breathing. He stood up, and Monica became aware of how close she had gotten to him. Blushing, she stepped back.

"Okay, well I hope you feel better soon. I guess I'll see you next week then." Monica offered him a small smile, and turned to leave.

"Wait," Chandler called after her, and she turned to face him. "I'm actually not feeling too bad right now, do you want to stay and maybe read me some of the material? It'll be better than just lying around doing nothing."

"Yeah, sure." Monica responded after a seconds hesitation.

"Okay, why don't you head down to the basement. I'm just gonna get changed and I'll meet you down there in a few minutes."

* * *

After an hour of Monica reading the latest chapter of their Econ text book and Chandler desperately trying to stay awake, they gave up and decided to just watch some tv. Chandler had excused himself to go to the washroom and Monica was flipping through the channels as she waited for him. There was nothing particularly interesting on, so she just settled on a cooking channel and absent-mindedly watch chefs bark at each other. She looked around the basement and tried to remember if she had ever been down there as a child. A Foosball table stood looking abandoned in the corner next to a large sliding glass door. The tv in front of her was large and surrounded by copies of movies piled sloppily on top of each other. And on the other side of the room there were boxes filled will old toys and books. None of it looked familiar, but all the same it felt homey.

Chandler returned and flopped onto the couch beside her. Monica turned and smiled at him, about to ask how he was feeling, when she smelled cigarette smoke.

"Chandler!" She exclaimed, horrified. "Were you smoking!?"

"Maybe," He replied with a sheepish grin.

"But you're sick! That's only going to make you feel worse." She scolded, genuinely concerned for him.

"On the contrary, I actually feel like I can breathe better now." He rubbed his chest and took a deep breath.

"It's a disgusting habit. And it will only make your cold worse." She shook her head in disappointment.

"It's a sacrifice I'm willing to make." He dead-panned, his voice still stodgy.

"When did you even start smoking?" Monica asked after a moment of silence.

"Uh," Chandler scratched at the back of his head as he thought. "Freshman year, I think?"

"Why?" She asked, looking at him seriously.

"I don't know. The guys were doing it, and it seemed fun." He shrugged, then looked over at her with a crooked grin. "And it was."

"And if the guys told you to jump off the Brooklyn bridge, would you?" Monica rolled her eyes at him.

"Well, it wasn't the Brooklyn bridge, but yeah." Chandler's grin grew very wide then suddenly turned into a grimace at the memory. "That one wasn't so fun."

"You're unbelievable." Monica shook her head, turning to look out the window.

"Why does it bother you so much?" Chandler asked, challenging her.

"I just think," She paused, chewing her lip and not turning to look at him. "I just think that this isn't you. The reckless behaviour, the slacking off in school, it just doesn't seem like the Chandler I remember."

Chandler grew quiet at her statement. He thought about when they were kids. He was never extremely close to Monica, but he had gotten to know her through all the time he had spent with her brother. Games of hide and seek, him and Ross chasing her with nerf guns, accidentally getting cake in her hair that one birthday- all the memories were innocent and a reflection of his fun-filled childhood with the Geller's. He wasn't just a goofy kid anymore though. Things had changed, and he had grown up. It bothered him that she held him to the person he used to be.

"Well, I'm not the Chandler you remember." He responded softly after a few minutes. She looked back at him then and held his gaze for a moment. There was something in it that made him feel guilty, and he looked away first.

"I'll let you rest now." Monica said and stood up to leave. "I hope you're feeling better so we can resume your studies next week. See you then."

"Yeah, see you." Chandler gave a half-hearted wave but Monica was already headed up the stairs, he back turned to him.

Chandler felt uneasy. He thought these weeks had been going well. He gave his best effort to pay attention to Monica's teaching and felt like he was actually learning something for once. They had been getting along fairly well too, he had even managed to get her laughing a couple of times. But now in the course of one small conversation he had managed to throw the whole dynamic off. He sulked to himself as he drifted off to sleep, hoping that next week everything would go back to normal like nothing happened.


	4. Chapter 4

Chandler stared at the cigarette in his hand. He desperately wanted a smoke but for some reason he couldn't bring himself to light it. Sighing, he stuffed the cigarette back into it's pack which he then placed in the pocket of his coat. He rested his elbows on the bannister and looked down into his backyard. The sun was setting on the old swing set that stood beside the shimmering pool. Childhood memories swept over Chandler.

_"Canon baaaaaaaaall!" Chandler shouted as he launched himself into the pool, nearly knocking Ross off of his inflatable raft. _

_ "Hey, be careful!" Ross whined when Chandler re-emerged from the water._

_ "Oh quit whining and get in the water already." Chandler smirked, splashing a handful of water at his friend._

_ "Cut it out!" Ross cried, but couldn't help laughing. He retaliated by fishing a water gun out of the water beside him and spraying Chandler. Chandler dove back underneath the water and swam beneath the raft, pushing it up. Ross fell, shrieking, into the pool. Chandler laughed uproariously and the real battle began._

_ About half an hour later the two had tired out and were relaxing by the side of the pool. Chandler's nanny had brought out a glass of lemonade for each of them and a plate of cookies. As they munched on the chocolate chip treats, blissfully unaware, a pigtailed Monica snuck up behind them._

_ Chandler was the first victim. The balloon hit him right at the back of the neck and popped open, freezing cold water trickling down his back. Ross was hit immediately after, right in the middle of the back. The two boys screeched, and Monica laughed as she ran away in her red bathing suit. She returned quickly with more balloons, quickly launching them at the boys before they could react. After being hit a second time, the pair looked at each other and rushed for their water guns. _

Chandler smiled fondly at the memory. He had been about nine years old. He genuinely missed those days of innocence and fun. He wished he could pinpoint the day it all changed. He knew it had happened sometime right at the start of high school, but he wasn't sure why. It was just one of those things. Friendships fell apart for no reason. Seldom had he dwelled on it, but now more than ever he wished that things had never changed. And he was sure Monica had something to do with it.

* * *

Chandler had a smile on his face as he pulled into the parking lot. This was the first time in his entire high school career that he arrived in good time. He was still feeling slightly pensive after his last tutoring session with Monica, but he was determined to undo whatever damage he had done. Instinctively he reached for the pack of cigarettes in his pocket as he exited the vehicle, but instead of taking one out to light it he tossed the carton into the car before closing the door. With his notebook in hand, Chandler walked into the school. He was almost shocked by the number of students in the halls as he entered the building, he was so used to arriving after classes had begun.

On route to his locker, he turned a corner and bumped into a rather large individual, knocking his books to the ground. Chandler looked up at the guy he'd crashed into and grimaced internally.

"Richard." He nodded curtly. The guy was well over six feet with hands as big as Chandler's head and a moustache thicker than his skull. Chandler thought the name Richard suited him very well, or at least the nickname that came from it did.

"Watch where you're going, bonehead." Richard sneered, reaching a long arm down to scoop up his books.

Hi! So sorry it's been so long guys! But hopefully I'll have some time now to update more regularly. Thank you for all the kinds reviews! It means so much to me :) I hope you enjoy this chapter!

* * *

"Right, sorry." Chandler paused, hesitating for a moment. He tried, he really, earnestly, tried to bite back his comment. But in the end Chandler never could resist a good quip "I'm just not used to watching out for trees in the hallway."

Richard sneered down at him. He took a quick glance around the hallway for authoritative figures and then lurched forward, knocking Chandler to the ground with one of his big, ape-like arms. A group of Richard's friends that were nearby snickered and followed the giant as he walked away.

Chandler was fairly intelligent when he tried, but he was not very smart. And sometimes, he let his impulses take control. Even though he was physically no match for Richard, he hated being pushed around and wasn't going to stand for it. His academic standing and Monica flashed briefly before his eyes but he pushed the worries aside and launched himself at the bully.

* * *

A bloody nose and a principal's trip later, Chandler stood outside the school with a suspension slip in his hand.

Richard had managed to get off clean, of course. His friends all vouched for him. They told the principal that Richard had bumped into him by accident, and Chandler went ballistic and jumped him. So of course, the star football player and teacher's pet was let off with a clean slate and the school slacker didn't even get his side of the story told. Typical. Chandler was used to it however, and wasn't particularly worried about the suspension. What was occupying his mind the most was the girl that was currently exiting the building.

"Monica! Monica!" Chandler yelled, running to catch up to her as she walked through the parking lot. Finally he arrived just behind her, and she wheeled around to face him. Chandler could tell from the look on her face that she already had heard the news.

"You got in a fight with Richard." Monica said point-blank, her eyes locking on his. He gulped.

"Yeah. I did." Chandler paused. He contemplated trying to voice his side of the story, but he knew there was no point. "But uh, I'm only off for a week. And we could probably continue the tutoring sessions, right?"

Monica looked surprised. Her mouth hung open slightly for a moment before she shook herself back into reality. Then she pursed her lips and cocked her head to the side, studying him.

"Why?" Was all she said.

"Well, no reason not to." Chandler shrugged. "I mean, I wasn't expelled. Might as well keep up with the work."

"No," Monica shook her head, and Chandler's heart sunk for a moment before she continued her sentence. "No, I mean, why did you get in a fight with Richard?"

"Oh," Chandler shrugged again, feeling uncomfortable with the concern evident in her eyes. "I just overreacted I guess."

"I don't believe you." She said matter-of-factually.

"Um, what?" Chandler blinked, slightly offended.

"I mean, I don't believe you overreacted." She said softly, peering up him. "I think he provoked you."

"Well, maybe." Chandler shrugged. "But I still started the fight."

"You don't even realize it." Monica shook her head with a gentle laugh.

"Realize what?" Chandler was thoroughly confused.

"You don't have a bad bone in your body." Monica said kindly.

Chandler was at a loss for words for a moment. Why was it that Monica saw so much good in him? He didn't understand it at all. It was a little too weird for him, all the sincerity, so he decided to lighten the mood.

"You don't know me too well then, do you?" He winked to let her know he was teasing. She rolled her eyes but Chandler was glad to see a smile light up her face.

"God, you look awful." She said, furrowing her brow and reaching a hand up to touch his slightly swollen face. It was just a brief, gentle touch, but Chandler felt a jolt race through him. He quickly looked away from her intense blue eyes.

"Do you want to walk home with me?" Monica asked as she stepped back. "I know a bit of first aid and I can help you get cleaned up."

All Chandler could do was nod and follow her as she led the way.

**A/N- Okay, my original intent was for this chapter to be a lot more angsty, but I had a change of heart and decided to move in a slightly different direction. I hope it's not too mushy! As always, please R&amp;R :)**


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